Mind you, that’s coming from a man who can SMELL some youthful yuppie with perfect hair just start THINKING about looking for his car keys so he can pop outside, saunter over to his beige (eh?) Volvo and gently edge it out into the day, with SuperDuperDad, KING of the blood sport that is New York Parking lurking mere inches behind him, waiting to snatch his prey out of the jaws of defeat, aka an irritable soccer mom who somehow thinks she’s more deserving of the space that I rightfully earned from years of honing my mental powers into an almost Jedi-like ability to sense a spot that is about to be vacated.

Uh, anyway, after securing the prize (it was actually a black dude with short, neat dreads pulling out in some sort of baby SUV- apologies from my stereotyping imagination to you, Cob Hill) we popped into the catchily-named UA Court Street Stadium 12 to check out the new Thor movie.

WOW. Maybe it’s because we don’t have television but SuperDuperKid and I were simply dazzled by the trailers leading up to the main feature. Green Lantern and the new X-Men looked cool as hell but even those paled in comparison to the thrill-inducing, action-packed trailer for Immortals, coming 11/11/2011. On the big screen, it was dripping with awe-inducing battle clips and feats of wonder. SDK and I shall be waiting in line with baited breath on opening day, no doubt.

Thor itself was pretty OK, too. Unsurprisingly, it devolved into formulaic tripe but not before delivering some percolating action scenes and tasty visuals.

We stopped at one of the small parks off Henry St. on our way back to the car.

Interestingly, SDK didn’t seem to gel with his Cobble Hill brethren. Was there a snootiness, a glossier sheen, a lack of the rough-hewn edges of WIlliamsburg kids to which he couldn’t relate? Or maybe, like my parking-related rant at the intro, I was displacing some of my own stereotypes? Maybe he just wasn’t in the mood.

He WAS suddenly hungry out of nowhere, however, in the way only a kid can be.

Besides your classic British fish n’ chips, (or fries, as we Yanks call them), this Ol’ Blighty-themed pub/restaurant has a kids menu featuring mac n’ cheese and chicken fingers. The adult fare is equally decadent. With a large selection of beers on tap amidst the deep-fried fish or (gasp) pizza, this is not the place for us namby-pamby health conscious eaters, no sir-ee-BOB.

But where the AC really hits its stride (and starts to pummel your heart and arteries) is with their indulgent desserts. Fried Mars Bars, Snickers and ANYTHING else you can drag in join the mouth-watering fried Twinkie we had from the must-try dessert menu.

Yes, you bring it in, the Atlantic Chipshop will fry it, hence the rowdy bunch behind us with a shopping bag overflowing with Oreos.

The Brit-styled rock theme adds curious fun with SDK wondering aloud who the Stiff Little Fingers were and the both of us musing over classic photos of the Beatles and the Who.

A great place for kids and adults alike, go to the Atlantic Chipshop and you’ll end up “sorted, mate” as da Yoof of the UK used to say, although that of course was drug parlance and may not go over well in the context of Cobble Hill, Brooklyn. As a former London dweller, however, I can assure you it went over fine in the mean streets of South Tottenham and Walthamstow.

You too can get sorted at the Atlantic Chipshop, mate. Just try and have a brisk jog home punctuated with thirty-forty minutes of pick up soccer afterwords. It’s the right thing to do.

Official SuperDuperDad Yay or Nay Verdict: YAY, as long as you eat healthily the next day, fatso!

Details: As stated, be aware that parking can be challenging. Also, for extra fun bring something crazy of your own to have fried!